


Tarot of the Pomegranate

by CavalierQueen



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Magic, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-05
Updated: 2010-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-11 12:26:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalierQueen/pseuds/CavalierQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer reconnects with woman from his past.She has a secret and an unknown stalker, both of which impact his life.Idea came from his line "Everyone tells me their secrets because I don't have anyone to share them with." Now he does.<br/>Criminal Minds - Rated: T - English - Romance/Drama - Chapters: 7 - Words: 11,536 - Reviews: 21 - Updated: 11-17-09 - Published: 11-10-09 - S. Reid</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tarot of the Pomegranate

Title: **Tarot of the Pomegranate**  
Category: TV Shows » Criminal Minds  
Author: CavalierQueen  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: T  
Genre: Romance/Drama  
Published: 11-10-09, Updated: 11-17-09  
Chapters: 7, Words: 11,536

  


* * *

**Chapter 1: Chapter 1**

* * *

**Tarot of the Pomegranate **

**A Criminal Minds Story**

 

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* * *

_The man sat in the dark at his drawing desk, surrounded by his palette of paints. Mozart's Requiem playing in the background…the song for the dead; he smiled tightly as he thought of how appropriate that song was. A small bright light lit his work area, leaving everything around him in darkness, the music filling the shadows and his mind. Early on, he had established his palette and using that palette he painted each card with excruciating detail. He had chosen a stunning and bright gold leaf to accent each card. There were deep indigos, intense purples, bright yellows and oranges and the reds…the reds were each a slightly different shade of red, dark, disturbing, and richly colored reds. He smiled as he received his inspiration for his newest card, The Tower._

 

* * *

The young man sat at his desk in the bullpen, writing notes up from the last case closed. Absent mindedly, his long fingers tucked his curled locks behind his ears. He needed a haircut, but never seemed to have the time or cared enough to do it in what little time he had to himself. The BAU team was tired after returning from their latest crime scene, the sound of a mother's sobs and a child's body still resonating in their hearts and souls. As he idly turned his pen in his fingers, staring at the computer screen, he thought of an article he had read once by a professor at Oxford who wrote of Holocaust survivors._ "A curious fact about language, which Tolstoy and then Hemingway used to advantage, is that to write about terrible things in a neutral tone or with descriptions barren of subjective response tends to generate an irony so virulent as to end in either cynicism or despair. On the other hand, to allow feeling much play when speaking of atrocity is to border on hysteria and reduce the agony of millions to a moment of self-indulgence."_ * While the team, of course, were only dealing this time with a few related cases of a child predator and murderer, they had seen so much in their lives as profilers it was easy to adapt the neutral tone that ended their reports, and damaged their souls with despair. His life, perhaps all of their lives, were lived in suspended animation until the next crime scene, the next unsub, the next chunk of their souls being eaten away. It had become too much for Gideon and too much for Elle. He wondered how much longer he could continue to see the bodies and the violence before he too would have to surrender himself as well.

His phone rang over the subdued noise of the bullpen, startling him out of his depressing reverie. He listlessly picked up the phone, trying to put a glimmer of hope into his young but hopeless voice, "Dr. Spencer Reid."

A voice on the other end seemed startled to have actually had a real person answer the phone, and then responded, her voice one he would remember for all of his days. "Hey Spence. You sound tired and down."

"Sophie…wow!" He stumbled over what he should say next, where to even start. Other than the occasional letters, they hadn't spoken since he had left for CalTech and she for Oxford.

"You remember. That is nice, Spence." Her voice was soft and deep, and held a promise of things a man could only hope for but never actually have.

Spencer stumbled uncomfortably over all the questions he had and couldn't seem to arrive at a single articulate question to ask her. He heard her laugh softly over the phone. He knew she wasn't laughing at him, but wasn't sure what she was laughing at. "Spence, take a deep breath and I'll start, ok?"

He cleared his throat, "Ok." He was exceptionally aware of Morgan and Prentiss watching him over the bullpen walls, smirking at his rare loss of words.

Sophie started to talk, quietly as was her way. But her voice held something else that he hadn't heard before, self-confidence, self-awareness that hadn't been there when they attended Yale together. It had been both of their "safety school" and once they had found each other, they were inseparable. They knew each other's secrets, each other's passions, and together they had initially explored sex together. He stopped thinking back on their time together and returned his attention to what she was saying.

"…anyway, long story short, I'm at William and Mary now, living here in Virginia, a small town called Bowling Green actually. I was hoping that now that we were in the same country, much less the same state, perhaps we could get together. I know you are really busy being the super profiler, but maybe…"

Spencer interrupted her, "Yes, absolutely. I'm off this weekend. I could drive up there. Bowling Green isn't so far. We could have dinner."

He could hear her smile even if he couldn't see it. "That sounds perfect Spence. Why don't we start earlier so we have more time for catching up? Say around 4ish?"

"I'll be there. I just need your address…"

Spencer Reid hung up the phone feeling much more hopeful and eager than he had for a very long time.

_"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up."  
— Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 9 _

* **THE SURVIVOR:AN ANATOMY OF LIFE IN THE DEATH CAMPS, **by TERRENCE DES PRES, Oxford Press, pg. iii

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

**Chapter 2: Chapter 2**

* * *

**Tarot of the Pomegranate**

* * *

"_A soul mates purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life…" Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love_

* * *

Spencer walked through the white picket fence, past the overgrown English garden, and up the wide stairs that led to Sophia's home. She had rented a beautiful old house in the style of the Old South. It had obviously been renovated with all new exterior, and he was certain, interior fixtures and furnishings, but they had kept the original look and style. He smiled as he looked around. When he left her in Connecticut, she was just finding herself, just as he was. They stood out, they were special, and yet considered more like freaks than anything. But she was beautiful and clever, and smarter than anyone around, except perhaps him, and he knew she would be successful at anything she did as they parted ways. And now, some strange twist of fate had brought them back together again. And he welcomed it. He knew it wouldn't be like it was before. They were no longer the isolated young teenagers surrounded by adults. They had careers, they had friends, or something like friends as far as he was concerned, and they had both found a niche where their special gifts allowed them to flourish. Perhaps, at least where he was concerned, he would never wholly fit in, but he was sure her beauty and intelligence allowed her to fit in anywhere.

Before he could ring the doorbell to announce his presence, the door flew open and he was greeted by the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. But before he could even take in her physical appearance, she had thrown herself into his surprised embrace laughing and giggling excitedly. "Spencer!" she said as she hugged him tightly, he finding himself returning the tight embrace.

She pulled away, not letting her arms drop from his waist, but allowing her to see him better. "You look wonderful, Spencer! You have grown up so much," she hugged him again, this time less exuberantly but just as passionately as before.

Sophia pulled Spencer into the foyer of her home and smiled while he took it all in. "Wow! I like your house. This is beautiful."

"Thanks, I just rent for now, but I might buy it someday. It's on the historical record, so the owners have kept it much as it was two-hundred years ago. Of course now I have air conditioning, a dishwasher, and all the updated comforts of home." She smiled up at Spencer as he returned his viewing of the front room back to her face.

Slightly nervous, he smiled at her. "You are beautiful, Sophie. Even more than you were before." His voice held a bit of awe. He took in her long, slightly curled blonde hair that hung to the middle of her back. The eyes that looked back at him so excitedly were intelligent but eyes that seemed older than her twenty-four years. The green was deeper and darker than he remembered. Her lips were lush and rosy, but her skin, her skin was perfect. Without thinking, his hand went to the side of her face, his cool fingers touching the blush on her perfect cheek. The palm of his large hand cupped her small heart-shaped face as he looked down on her. He was surprised at his forward action, but she only smiled softly at him, turned her face into his palm and softly kissed the gun-callused skin there. He looked at her, desperate emotion on his face, and whispered, "God Sophie, I have missed you."

She smiled softly back up at him, her face still cupped in his hand, all of her happy excitement gone and just contentment showing in her face, "And I you." For a still moment in time they stood looking at each other until she took his hand and led him further into her home.

While she finished getting ready, Spencer took in the surrounding space. The furnishings were expensive antiques in a mixture of European styles. He was unsurprised by the number and type of books scattered around her home. Bookshelves overflowed onto the floor and the occasional table. She had always been a constant reader, and like him, her interests varied far and wide. There was a comfortable overstuffed sofa in the middle of the room and a small plasma TV in a corner. It didn't look like it was used very often. He picked up some of the more personal items displayed around the tables and mantles. He told himself he wasn't profiling Sophia, that he was just interested in what she had been doing in the intervening years, but deep down he knew he was lying to himself. Profiling others was a habit now, whether he welcomed the skill or not.

He saw pictures of Sophie with the usual London and U.K. tourist places posed behind her, pictures of her with friends at Oxford, drinking in pubs, smiling happily with various men clearly taken in various countries in Europe. And once again surprising him, he saw pictures of the two of them taken throughout their years at Yale. There were also several pictures of a small child, portraits and candid shots all including Sophia. He had no idea who the child was but she must be someone very close to Sophie to have so many pictures around the house.

Sophia walked into the room where she found Spencer holding a picture of the two of them at Yale in one hand and looking at the picture of the child, his own eyes staring back at him. Standing silently watching, Sophie leaned against the door jamb of the room. Spencer turned and looked back at her, still holding the picture of Sophia and the girl in his hand. Questions filled his troubled face.

"Sophie…?" he asked, just above a whisper.

"I should have known I couldn't have postponed the inevitable. Spencer, we should sit down. We have a lot to catch up on, more than you know." Sophia turned slowly away from Spencer and walked to the kitchen. He stood where he was staring after Sophia, a sense of foreboding and betrayal starting to fill his mind. He heard the clinking of glasses and what sounded like the uncorking of wine. He took the picture and went to sit down on a nearby chair. He couldn't take his eyes off of the small girl with the blonde hair and peach and crème skin and his eyes. HIS eyes.

Sophie came back into the room and sat the glasses down on the table, pouring some wine into each and handing one to Spencer. She then picked up a large book and sat at his feet, her hands reaching for his. He pulled away, not letting her take his hand, and looking at her like he had never seen her before.

She sighed, not surprised by his reaction, but saddened still, "Spencer…" she started before he interrupted.

"Where is she, Sophia?" his voice was barely a whisper, but the anger was clear.

"She is with my mom, Spencer. Her name is Diana Reid. I named her after your mother, and you are on the birth certificate as her father." Her voice matched his, whispering but his anger replaced by her compassion.

"Why didn't you tell me?" his rage softening slightly at the idea of his daughter being named after his beloved mother.

"We left each other when we were 16, Spencer. Regardless of having graduated high school at twelve and having two degrees by the time we were 16, we were not capable of raising a child. You were bound for CalTech and some form of greatness, and I was bound for Oxford. My mother moved with me and cared for Diana while I went to school. My mom wanted me so much to have as normal a life as I could at school. Nothing in my life had ever been normal, not school, not relationships, nothing. And at Oxford, I was surrounded by the best and the brightest of intellectuals. I was able to thrive with like-minded people around me. And our child thrived as well. My mother loves her as her grandchild and I love her as a mother loves her child. Our daughter has been raised in a home full of love. She knows I am her mother, and she knows you are her father. And now she wants to be with you as well as with me. Now it is she that craves the normal life of a family that we were never allowed."

"She knows who I am?"

"She has pictures of you that she keeps with her. We have googled you and she has read some of the articles about you. She knows you are working for the FBI and that you live in Virginia. She knows what you like to read, how fast you can read…" Sophia laughed, "She started reading at 3, and wants you to teach her how to read as fast as you can. She can't wait to catch up to where you are. She has even started trying to tackle some of your favorite authors." Sophia smirked slightly, "Of course, while she can read the words, her comprehension is not quite as advanced. But words she doesn't understand, she looks up in the dictionary."

"Why didn't you tell me? I still don't understand. You knew I felt abandoned by my father and in a way by my mother as well. I would never do that to my child!"

"Of course I knew that Spencer. I knew if I told you that you would give everything up to stay and raise our daughter. We were too young! We could hardly raise ourselves, much less a child. It isn't like we could pick up a parenting book, speed read our way through it memorizing every page and then voila," she raised her hands in the air as her voice climbed," we were ready to be parents. I wanted us BOTH to have some normality to our lives. Advanced college gave us that normality, at least as much as 'normal' is able to be in our lives. I was very young to have a child. You were too. I worried over it and prayed on it and made out lists of pros and cons, and still went with what my heart believed to be true: that you deserved to be free of this knowledge so you could soar as you have. And I have too. Our lives were planned out for us a very long time ago. But Diana is a welcome surprise that has upset that plan. I hoped, I still hope, that our shared love for each other even over the intervening years would be enough for you to forgive me. She is very much a part of my life, and she and I both want you to be a part of her life as well."

Spencer looked at Sophia, pain so evident in his eyes it brought tears to hers. "Of course I will be a part of her life. Where is she? Do you plan to have her live here with you? And what? Spend weekends with me?" His voice had taken on a bitter tone.

"She will live here with me, with us. You can see her anytime you want. I moved here so that you could both have each other. You need each other. She is your daughter in so many ways, Spence."

"I had a right to know, Sophia! What if I had gotten married? What if I had died when I was taken hostage or in some shoot-out? I would never have known." He paused and then looked up at her sharply. "You know schizophrenia is inherited. What if she develops it? What if I do?"

"Ifs, could'a, would'a, should'a…we could live our life with those sorts of recriminations or fears and it would not change a thing. We both have lives that we have lived separately, but we now live close together. I chose this professorship and this place intentionally, for you. I chose this town to split the difference in travel time between Quantico and Williamsburg. I have rented my mother another house within walking distance so that she can care for Diana when I am working. You travel all the time, Spence. But I wanted you to be able to see your daughter as much as you wanted."

Sophia stopped and looked into his hurt eyes, the pain radiating from him. "Spencer, I never wanted to hurt you. I love you and I have since Yale. We were too young to know what love was then, but that isn't true now. I understand if you never trust me again, if you don't love me, even if you hate me for the choice I have made, but I also know that you would never take your anger at me out on our daughter."

Spencer stood suddenly, knocking his glass of wine onto the carpet. He stopped surprised and then remembered his anger and started to walk away. "Spencer," Sophia called out, "before you leave, take this with you. It is a book, a scrap book of all of her pictures, of her works, the dates when she walked, talked, and read her first words. There are DVDs in there so you can see all these things you missed. I never wanted to you miss them, and every time there was a milestone I wished you were there. But the choice was made and here we are. I only have this to offer you to compensate for those missed moments. And of course, I have our daughter. She is waiting to meet you when you are ready."

Spencer silently took the book and walked out of the house, not looking back.

_TBC_

_A/N: I'll continue if there is enough interest. Let me know by reviewing! _

* * *

**Chapter 3: Chapter 3**

* * *

**Tarot of the Pomegranate**

**Chapter 3**

 

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_The card was finished. The Tower. The card that represents the arrogance and righteousness of men. In Washington D.C. there would be plenty of men, and women for that matter, to choose from. His sacrifice to Wisdom will be one who stands for false concepts and ideals that they consider to be real. Yes, there would be no lack of sacrifices here. The man in the dark smiled as the soprano in _Requiem__ sang "Jesu Pie." 'O Sweet Jesus' indeed the man laughed softly.__

 

* * *

Spencer listened on his DVD headphones while he stared blankly out the jet window. The team was once more on its way to yet another crime scene, this one in Mexico. He found he didn't really care that much right now. He was still in a form of suspended animation after learning about Diana. He watched the DVDs that Sophie had made for him a hundred times and yet couldn't get enough of seeing his daughter. HIS daughter. The DVDs showed everything: her birth and the screams from Sophie as she made the final push. Sophie held Diana up to the camera introducing her to Spencer with her first breath. The videos showed her playing in her baths, playing with her mommy's books, taking swimming lessons in the mommy and me classes, saying her first words, one of which was daddy. That brought tears to his eyes every time he heard it. Later, there was video of her reading her first book cover to cover, riding her bike, eating ice cream that got all over her face as well as her little dress. From what he could tell from the videos, she was growing up to be a very healthy, well-rounded, happy and well-loved child. She always smiled at the camera and always, ALWAYS, ended the video with "I love you Daddy." Sophia had obviously made a tremendous effort to make sure Diana always knew who her father was. That made him inordinately pleased, given that he should be furious with her for keeping all of this from him. Instead, he found himself grateful that she had been so thorough, so thoughtful as to always keep him in her mind, as well as Diana's.

And the scrapbook was lovingly put together just for him. It had the birth announcement, pictures of Diana from birth to date, all of her drawings and scribblings. There was a list of important dates laid out for him, a list of the books she had read so far, most of which were far above her age. As she grew older, Diana drew pictures of him, Sophie, and grammy standing in front of a house with a picket fence and a dog. The perfect family, he thought. The perfect family that he realized he wanted very much.

_"Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." ~Elizabeth Stone_

Spencer hadn't decided to make the decision. But he knew his heart was forever walking around in the body of Diana Reid. Spencer closed his eyes listening to his daughter's happy laughter ringing in his ears.

 

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* * *

_The man laughed as his victim screamed. It had taken a lot of work to get this man to scream, which only made it more exciting. He was a military officer, had seen the spoils of war, and was definitely not going to give in to the man. After days of escalating and creative torture, the officer finally broke. Once broken the enjoyment was over. The man took the officer's tongue and his heart, for those were the two things with which a man could demonstrate Wisdom or the lack thereof. He killed him quickly and effortlessly, but not before carving the Latin word 'Consilium' into his chest._

 

* * *

Sophia picked up the phone, her hands covered in cookie dough, while her daughter flung flour around the room giggling hysterically at the mess she was making. "Hello?" Her voice sounding breathless and exasperated.

Spencer sighed, laughing slightly at the noisy scene that must be going on at the house. "It's me. What is going on over there?"

Sophia's voice had dropped into a quiet cautious tone. She hadn't heard from him since he left her house that fateful day. "Hey Spence. I wasn't sure when we would hear from you. We are making cookies. Well, actually, I am making cookies and Diana is making a mess."

"She sounds very happy to be doing it." Spencer laughed and then dropped into a serious note. "I'm coming home, Sophie."

"Great! I take it the team solved the case and all is well wherever you went off to."

"Yeah, well we solved the case. I'm not sure all is well anywhere."

"Will you come here?"

"I said I was coming home," Spencer said, his voice sounding vulnerable and tired.

Sophia paused, understanding dawning on her. "Well, then, I hope you are prepared to clean up the flour and sugar mess your daughter has made."

Spencer laughed. "I have a lot of catching up to do with Diana. And we have a lot to talk about." This time it was Spencer's turn to pause, "And Sophie, thank you for the DVDs and the book. While I wasn't there for all those years, your videos made me at least feel almost like I was. And I don't intend to miss anymore of her life."

Sophie was silent on the other end of the phone, but he could hear the sniffles of tears starting. "Thank you Spence. Maybe someday you can forgive me, but just having you a part of our lives is enough for now. We'll be waiting."

"Don't cry Sophie," he said softly. "Everything is going to be alright. It will be several hours before I get home, but I will be there as soon as I can."

Sophie choked out her response, "I'll wait up."

Spencer sighed into the phone, "Bye," he whispered as he hung up the phone.

The team all were looking at him curiously, unable to hear the whispered conversation but knowing that something very big was going on in Spencer Reid's life. Everyone on the team compartmentalized their private lives from their work lives, and Spencer was no different. Only as far as they knew, he had nothing but his mother to compartmentalize. Now, it looked like something had changed. Spencer just looked at the curious team, smiled his little closed mouth smile, tucked his forever loose hair behind his ears, and put his headphones back on listening again to his daughter's voice.

_TBC_

* * *

**Chapter 4: Chapter 4**

* * *

**Tarot of the Pomegranate**

**Chapter 4**

 

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_The man sat outside the woman's house in the dark. This was the fourth night in a row he sat there watching. He didn't usually spend so much time watching her, preferring to keep tabs on her from afar. But this time, _this__ time, he saw a little girl living with her and a man who spent much of his time with them as well. The man watched as the lights in the house slowly went off and shadow of the couple went arm and arm into the softly lit bedroom. No! This wasn't happening! She had taken lovers before, but they were nothing serious and she never brought them home. This time the other man spent many nights at her house. And the girl child, how had he not known about her? Watching them at a nearby park, he heard the girl call him 'Daddy.' This could NOT be… but then The Tower card…not only was it about arrogance and self-righteousness, it was also about upheaval, being blinded by the truth, falsehoods exposed, a belief system destroyed. The man felt profound grief, despair, and anger. His Regina, His Queen, His Empress, loved another, had another's child, and he had not known. She had kept this from him. She had lied to HIM, of all people. And like the others, she would be punished.__

 

* * *

Sophia cleaned up the dishes as Spencer went to read to his daughter. He had picked up the ritual she had started when Diana was just a baby. Now that she was seven, when Spencer was not on a case and at home, the home they were working to make together, he read to Diana at night before she went to sleep. Spencer was reading the children's classic Five Children and It, a fantastical story about wishes and being careful about what you wish for. Sophia soon found herself standing at the door listening to him read. He read with such joy and patience, his quiet voice filling the imagination with what could be. Sophie thought he must have learned that from his mother. He had once talked about how his mother read to him often, from everything. She always told him a story was better when it was read to you. He was carrying on the tradition with his daughter. She watched as he closed the book at the end of the chapter, a sleepy Diana asking him to read more even though she couldn't keep her eyes open. He smiled at her leaning down to kiss her forehead. "There will be more to read tomorrow night. I love you sweetheart."

"I love you too Daddy," she said as she drifted off into the innocent sleep of children.

Spencer pulled the covers up around Diana's shoulders and left the lamp on, softly lighting the room. Of the many characteristics his daughter and he shared was their fear of the dark. He was mostly over his, sometimes. But he would never leave her in the dark until she chose it for herself. Even children realize that there are monsters out there, and they often hide in the dark.

He sighed as he rose from her bed covered in fairies and flowers and turned towards Sophia. He smiled as he walked towards her, putting his arm around her shoulders while they walked towards their own bedroom.

* * *

After his return from the case in Mexico, he did come home to Sophia's house. And while he got to know Diana over the first few days of staying there, he had slept in a different room. He was unwilling to just plunge into another relationship with Sophia while his emotions were so raw. But the tension between them was not just about her keeping the secret of Diana from him, but it was also sexual. Every touch, every glance, every word exchanged between them was full of unspoken sexual tension. They both knew it, felt it, and it kept them up at night in their separate bedrooms.

One night Spencer, terribly uncomfortable with all the things unsaid and undone, came into Sophia's darkened room. He was almost hoping she was asleep and he could use that excuse to not confront what was going on between them. But she wasn't asleep. She was very awake and felt more than heard him enter her room.

"Sophia?" he whispered.

"Come in Spence."

He walked into her room in his baggy flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt, his hair still damp from his shower earlier. She patted the edge of her bed, inviting him to talk, wanting him to do so much more. His eyes adjusted to the lack of light in her room and he walked to her bed where she turned back the covers inviting him in. He sat down and looked at her. She was so beautiful. Through the curtains, the moon lit her blond hair turning it almost silver. Her eyes were big and bright and she smiled shyly at him. He reached out a hand cautiously touching her soft hair, brushing it away from her face.

"How did I ever get so lucky, Sophie?" he whispered, not willing to break the moment with sound.

"Spencer, you deserve everything good in life. That isn't luck. It just is."

He smiled at her, his eyes vulnerable and wanting. "You know I love you. I always have. I just never thought…" He paused, at a rare loss for words.

"I know. I love you too. But I always knew we would be together again, even if just to raise our daughter together."

"I want more than that Sophie. I want the whole ball of wax, the whole family thing. You, me, Diana, a dog, a cat, the white picket fence…the whole thing. Am I being greedy?"

Sophie smiled up at him, moving her face towards his. "Well, we have you, me, Diana, and the white picket fence. I guess all that is left is the dog and cat," she paused before she became more serious. "Does this mean you're moving out of the guest room?"

He leaned towards her, his eyes never leaving hers, their lips almost touching. "I guess it does," he whispered just before their lips met for the first time since they had been reunited.

Now, more than a week after he had joined her in her bed they found themselves sweaty and exhilarated from their love making. The interceding years had provided them both with a lot of practice and skill, culminating in a very satisfying and constant sexual relationship. They lay next to each other still breathing hard staring at the ceiling as they sought to catch their breath.

Spencer rolled towards Sophie, propping himself up on his arm. "Sophie?"

"Yeah?" she still was trying to catch her breath. She was always amused that Spencer seemed to recover faster than she did and was always ready to go another round. They were both insatiable.

"You could have aborted Diana. You were sixteen. You had your whole life ahead of you. You didn't know what would happen when you had her and how it would affect your education or your future. You can't know if she will develop schizophrenia. We've talked about almost everything but we haven't talked about your decision, how you made it, and why?"

Sophia laughed out loud, breaking the darkness with her deep laughter. "Spencer, oh my love. There really was no decision to make. I would never have aborted _our_ child, your child. Never. Nor would I have given her up for adoption. Even if I hadn't been able to continue my education. Even if I was aware of the risks of schizophrenia. It didn't matter. The only decision I really struggled with was whether or not to tell you at the time. I knew I would eventually. But whether to tell you when we were parting our ways at sixteen or to wait until a better time, that was really the only decision I had to make. And it was a difficult one. But once I had decided, and I had my mother's support, there was no going back." She pushed him over onto his back while she rolled herself on top, "And here we are…"

"But…"

She put her finger to his lips, "Shh baby. It's done. There is no going back. Don't let that big brain of yours over think this. The arrow of time only moves forward, Spence."

He smiled, a smile that even reached his eyes, a happy content smile. And he lifted his lips to capture hers and rolled her under him, making love together again.

"_Where does irreversibility come from? It does not come from Newton's laws. Obviously there must be some law, some obscure but fundamental equation, perhaps in electricity, maybe in neutrino physics, in which it does matter which way time goes." __Richard Feynman, Nobel Laureate_

 

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_

* * *

_She had abandoned him, left him for another, another serious enough to move in with her. He had allowed her one-night one-week flings in the past. But this, this relationship could not be allowed. She had abandoned him for another, thrown his devotion and care for her to the wind. He sat at his table in his darkened apartment and picked up his palette. He stared at the blank card in front of him, imagining The Empress falling away._

 

_TBC_

* * *

**Chapter 5: Chapter 5**

* * *

**Tarot of the Pomegranate**

**Chapter 5**

_I see a shadow far away in the distance  
I see a target where we are aiming  
And when I consider all that we have learned  
All these experiences  
I know the roots will go down to the bottom  
If we walk in a sense of wonder  
Or if we are in a time of reason  
We can recall these days  
Investigating dread and dreams_.

Of Dread and Dreams, Means

* * *

Spencer walked into the house after working in the yard. He loved the idea of a yard again, of caring for the plants, pulling the weeds, getting his hands dirty with something other than blood. He found it cleared his head of anything but peace. He greeted Diana with a kiss to her head and then walked to the kitchen and washed the dirt from his hands. When he was finished, he sat at the table beside Diana looking at what she was doing. She had a set of cards scattered about her. They were hand-painted and beautiful.

"Hey Sweetheart, what are you doing?" Spenser asked curiously.

"I'm playing with Mommy's cards. She got a new one today. Isn't it pretty? But it is kind of strange don't you think? The building is all crumbly and these people are falling out the windows. But look at the colors Daddy. Aren't they beautiful?"

Spenser picked up the cards one at a time, looking at them carefully. There were about sixteen cards total, all painted in the same color scheme, but each one represented something different. With a small sense of dreadsettling in his stomach, he turned each card over to see what was on the other side. There were words written, some sort of description of feeling or concept or idea along with a date. It was clearly a message, a puzzle of sorts. The name of each card was clearly written with a fountain pen in formal handwriting…they were from the Major Arcana of the Tarot.

Sophia came walking in to start lunch, smiling at Spencer and Diana. "I see you have discovered my tarot deck."

"Is this something you are working on?" Spencer asked, doubting it in his head but hoping nevertheless.

"Of course not. I'm not nearly so creative. Remember when I got the first one of these when we were at Yale? I think it was The Fool card. They've been coming fairly regularly ever since." Sophie seemed nonchalant about the cards, even only mildly interested at all.

"So you don't know who has been sending these to you?" The mild sense of dread Spencer was feeling was starting to become stronger, making his heart pound harder.

Sophie looked at him curiously. "No, I just thought they were from some artist that thought I would appreciate them. They are gorgeous don't you think. The colors are so rich and the design so unusual. Very creative." She picked up one of the cards and fingered it admiringly.

Spencer rapidly began sorting the cards out before him in the order of date. He immediately picked up a pattern of dates. "Sophie, he sent these to you starting while we were at Yale, right? This card is dated 8 years ago. This last one, The Tower, is dated just a few days ago." The pace of Spencer's words sped up as his dread and excitement grew. "The time difference between the first and second card are a year apart, the second and third are about a year apart as well. Then the time between cards starts to pick up. First every six months, then every four months, and then the one you received today. That is a total of 16 cards so far."

"Ok. What are you getting at?" Sophie asked slowly.

"Do any of these dates or the words on the cards mean anything to you?"

Sophie went to the table and started to reread the words, something she hadn't pondered on very long with any of the cards. She had been more interested in the artwork on the front. He had broken the cards into groups by time, sorting them into cards she would have received at Yale, at Oxford, and back in Virginia. He watched as Sophie's eyebrows knitted together putting the puzzle pieces together.

She smiled softly at Diana, and in a false mommy voice, asked her if she would mind going to play in the playroom so Mommy and Daddy could talk. Diana, the tone of her mother's voice escaping her, Diana smiled happily and left the table to go play.

"Spencer, first of all you are scaring me. You see terrible things everywhere. And secondly, the only date on this card that even comes close to meaning anything to me is the this one…" she picked up the High Priestess card. "My mentor at the school was killed on this date, on November 7. I must have received the card shortly after that."

"And how was your mentor killed?"

"Someone broke into her house, destroying some of her priceless manuscripts and killing her in the process. The police thought it was a robbery gone bad."

"Sophie, what does the High Priestess card mean?" Spencer asked as he picked it up to examine it.

"Something you don't know Spence? Wow!" she teased, but the look on Spencer's face sobered her humor quickly. "The High Priestess card is the card of instinct, knowledge, supernatural, and secret knowledge. The pomegranate curtain represents Persephone and her ability to travel between the world and the underworld. The High Priestess is the teacher of knowledge, often secret or arcane." A hint of realization appeared on her face, but she shook it away, not wanting to believe what Spencer was getting at.

"You can't mean that…" Sophie started to deny what was becoming clearer to her.

"Sophie, we don't have enough information to know for sure. But I think it is worth looking into. I need to have our researcher take the dates and see what we find. We don't have anything other than the dates to link anything to you. Was there anything about this murder that was odd or disturbing?"

Sophie swallowed hard, her eyes starting to tear up. "Her eyes were removed. The police thought it was odd, but thought that maybe it was just some kids doing something sick."

"Did Scotland Yard get involved?" The dread in his stomach started to boil and bile threaten to spill out.

"No, it was just the local police. There was a detective and a sergeant that I spoke with, but as far as I know no one was ever charged." She paused and then whispered, his dread transferring to her, "But you don't think it was just some sick teenager? Or some coincidence, do you?"

Spencer looked at her sadly, trying to suppress the fear in his stomach. He went to her and circled his arms around her comfortingly. "Baby, in my experience, at the very least you have a stalker, one that has been following you for years, making these cards and giving them to you. We just won't know how serious this is until we get more information."

"Are we in danger?" Sophie's voice broke as her fear reached the surface finally.

Spencer paused and started to stutter his answer out, finally saying what he wanted to say, "At the very least you and Diana should move into my place until we know more. Since he has sent this last card here, he knows where you live and he may very well have been watching you…us." Spencer hugged her tighter and then took charge, his fear driving him to get them moving. "We need to pack some clothes, some books and toys for Diana, and anything else you will need. We need to leave as soon as possible." He went to the windows, closing the curtains while looking for any strange cars parked on the quiet street. He felt temporarily relieved to see only the neighbor's cars and the regular activities of a small, quiet neighborhood.

While Sophie silently went to pack, Spencer quietly lifted the cards and put them in individual zip-lock bags while at the same time dialing Garcia's number.

"Yeah, Garcia. Listen, it's Spencer. I need you to do something for me…"

 

_   
_

* * *

_The man looked at his handiwork. The woman had been an easy snatch. It was night and she was just coming out of the local baby store, alone. She had obviously gone there after work and was tired and not paying very close attention. It was easy to drag her into his car and silence her for the drive to the spot he had found earlier. It was time for his fallen Empress to know him, know what he was capable of, know what he had done for her. The woman screamed one last time with no one and nothing but the trees to hear her. He carved the words 'Fateor tu Nefas' and this time he dropped the Empress card on the bloody body._

__   


* * *

A/N: I do not know Latin, not the conjugates or the other forms to create accurate sentences. I just pulled words off the Latin Word List on line and put them together. If you are reading this and _know__ how the Latin should be, you can email me and I will make the appropriate corrections. Thanks._

_ _

 

* * *

**Chapter 6: Chapter 6**

* * *

**Tarot of the Pomegranate**

**Chapter 6**

* * *

"_**The drive toward the formation of metaphors is the fundamental human drive, which one cannot for a single instant dispense with in thought, for one would thereby dispense with man himself." F. Nietzsche**_

* * *

By the time Spencer, Sophia, Diana, and Sophie's mother Rexxie, made it to Quantico, Garcia had already found the beginnings of what Spencer thought might be a link to the stalker. With Diana and Rexxie safely stashed in an empty office on the floor of the BAU, Spencer and Garcia went to work while Sophie watched, again amazed at how quickly Spencer's brain could work.

JJ was in the office working as well, so when Spencer walked into the war room the information he had already shared with them was on the white board. He quickly put the Ziploc bound cards up on the board, drawing the timeline he had already memorized in his head. In his 'zone' he forgot completely about introducing the beautiful blonde who walked in with him. Garcia and JJ just stared at him with their eyebrows raised until he stopped for a moment to notice that no one but him was moving around or even listening to his 'self-talk' as he thought through what he feared was true.

He saw JJ smirking at him, with her eyebrows raised in humor. "What?" he asked, completely unaware of what she might funny in this situation.

"Aren't you going to introduce your friend?" JJ smiled at him fondly.

"Oh. Yeah." Spencer turned awkwardly towards Sophie figuring out what to say.

Sophie laughed and moved further into the room, putting her hand out to JJ first, "Hi, I'm Sophie. I'm a…" she paused and looked at Spence, who was nervously putting his hair behind his ear. She shook her head slightly at his awkwardness and continued, "I'm a friend of Spencer's. We've known each other a long time."

Sophie than shook Garcia's hand who energetically shook it in her usual effervescent way.

They both turned back to Spencer, skepticism in their eyes, but started to brief him on what they had learned since he had called. While they talked, he continued putting the cards in the timeline order.

Garcia began. "I did a search on all unsolved murders in the places you asked for during the times you mentioned. There are a lot Reid. And if I narrow them down to some sort of ritualized unsolved, the list drops some but I don't have enough information to find a pattern of any kind yet."

"And I woke up our friends at Scotland Yard, asking for the files on the professor that was killed, Dr. Hart. They've sent the file, including pictures. Here they are," JJ handed him the brown folder. "I'm surprised that they ruled this a robbery gone bad, Spence. There are a lot of signs that it isn't just that."

Spencer sped through the file. "Did they have any other unsolved with any kind of ritualistic markings similar to this case?"

"They didn't have any in their records. They are checking with the different counties there to see if they can find anything. If you are right, and he has been killing there, he might have done it across county lines so he was less likely to get caught."

Spencer started talking as he read the file, "Professor of Religious Studies, Oxford," he looked up at Sophie. "Baby, maybe you don't want to hear all of this."

Sophia swallowed and sighed as she took a seat. "If this guy has been stalking me all these years, then I want to know what he has done."

Spencer pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully. "Ok, you can leave anytime."

While their brief conversation took place, JJ and Garcia looked at each other, their eyes big mouthing the words ,"Baby?" to each other.

"So Dr. Hart was killed, many rare books on magic and religion were ruined. Her eyes were taken," he heard Sophie gasp and briefly looked up wishing she wasn't here but she wasn't going to leave now. He continued, "And this word was carved on her body…'_acuitas_.'"

Spencer and Sophia looked at each other and said at the same time, "Insight."

Sophia collapsed back into her chair, explaining, "If one is a Querant, a person asking the questions of the Tarot reader, and the High Priestess card appears, the Querant should pay attention to intuition, hunches, and dreams. He must see me as the Querant, and he as the reader Spence. Or am I jumping to conclusions?"

"Let's not rush to judgment yet, Sophie. This is the only person we can connect to you."

"But the cards and the dates…"

"I know, but let's see if there is more."

Garcia interrupted at this point. "I might have more," she said softly, regret deep in her usually happy voice.

Spencer turned to her, waiting for her to share the information she might have. "I looked around Virginia, DC, close-in areas since you said she just received the most recent card. There was another ritualized killing on that date. It was a single incident and no one connected it to anything else. The vic was a Major in the Army, he was tortured to death this time. The word _'Consilium'_ was carved into his chest."

Spencer looked at Sophia. "Judgment." Spencer fingered The Tower card in his hands.

"Tower card can represent the arrogance and righteousness of man," Sophia whispered.

Garcia gasped, "His tongue and heart were cut out…"

Spencer stood slowly, putting the Tower card back on the board. "Those two things represent arrogance and righteousness to the unsub. JJ, call in the team. I think we have enough. And JJ, can you get copies of the cards made and the originals sent to the lab? Sophia, Diana's, and my fingerprints are all over them, but see if there are any more prints or DNA we can use. Garcia, now that we know what we are looking for, go back and see if you can narrow the list any further."

The two women left the room, not seeing the comforting hug Spencer surrounded Sophia's body with.

 

_ **   
**_

* * *

_**Where was she? He sat outside her house and it was dark. There wasn't a single light left on. Her car sat in the driveway, but the other one was gone. It was one in the morning, she had to be home, but the house felt empty, very empty. Where had she gone? She had taken the child and the old woman with her. He crept slowly up to the house and swung himself over the wooden fence. He knew the house was alarmed, but he thought he could get past anything. He cut the power to the house, cutting the alarm and phones as well. There would be no noise when he entered. He had never entered her private chambers before. He had thought he wasn't worthy and chose to worship her from afar. But now that skinny, long- haired geeky kid was in her life and he knew, KNEW, if she had to choose between the skinny kid or him, she would choose him. He just needed to make her know he existed, to make her acknowledge his existence.**_

 

_ **He smiled grimly as he entered the dark house. It was a bit messy, like they had left in a hurry. Had she figured it out already? She was smart, but not that smart! He was smarter and he would show her. He went through her clothes, her books, her jewelry and personal items. Everything went on the floor. He wanted her to know he existed. Well, now she did. Before he left, he painted a full moon on her round kitchen table, a perfect moon in the colors he used for all his cards. The moon rules the emotions and the good and bad things from dreams come from the moon. In front of his beautiful moon, he painted two howling wolves, baying at the moon. And their eyes were red, red from his own blood.** _

_ **TBC** _

_A/N: I realized after watching the 'Masterpiece' episode last night that Spencer was 27, and had been with the BAU for three years, hence where I got the 24 years old from. I'm not going back to change the dates because it will make Diana too old for this story_ _ **. ** _ _Just pretend like you don't know and we have compressed time, or whatever works for you. :-)_

* * *

**Chapter 7: Chapter 7**

* * *

**Tarot of the Pomegranate**

**Chapter 7**

"_Without obsession, life is nothing." John Waters_

The team started to assemble in the conference room, taking their seats at the round table and good-humoredly talking about how theirs was a twenty-four/seven job. Morgan started kidding Spencer, who was still putting information on the board, about working to find cases for them even on the weekend.

"Reid, man you should get a girlfriend!" Morgan exclaimed.

"He has a girlfriend," the beautiful woman walked in the room and walked straight to Spencer. Morgan's mouth dropped open and surprise showed on the other's faces as well.

"Guys," Spencer's voice broke slightly, his discomfort and pride mixing together in his emotions. "This is Dr. Sophia Wexler, lately of Oxford England, and now settled at William and Mary, here in Virginia. We have known each other since Yale."

Morgan piped up again, slightly irritated but not sure why. "So you're another 'egg-head?'"

Sophie laughed slightly and looked down at her feet and then back up, staring straight through Morgan. "Well, if by 'egg-head' you mean having a really high IQ and basic reasoning skills, well yeah, I guess you could say that."

Morgan closed his mouth and nodded his head slightly in a form of apology while a few of the other's snickered at his discomfort. Spencer took this opportunity to make the formal introductions to the team, and Sophie graciously and confidently shook each member's hands. Rossi was slightly pleased that for the first time in a long time she apparently hadn't read his books or knew who he was.

After the introductions were complete, Sophie very quietly asked Spencer if he needed her to stay or if she should go. Just by the tone of her voice barely heard by the others, they could tell she didn't want to stay. Spencer looked at her apologetically, "Sophie, I think you should stay. You can fill in whatever blanks are left and can help us build a profile of the unsub."

"Unsub?"

"Sorry, short for unknown subject," Spencer clarified.

Without saying anything else, Sophia reluctantly took a seat between Garcia and JJ, feeling slightly more comfortable there than anywhere else, except maybe back at her computer writing her most recent historic novel.

Spencer took the remote control from JJ and started going through the story that had evolved so far. He showed the timeline drawn on the whiteboard, each card in detail, both front and back, and the murder scenes they had discovered so far. Each member of the team flipped through the pages in the folders they had been given.

Rossi started, "So it looks like this is an unsub who has targeted Sophia since her Yale days. Given the way the cards were mailed to her and the fact that Scotland Yard has at least one body linked to these cards, he must have followed her from Yale to Oxford and now back to Virginia."

"Which means he must have a job that either allows him to travel between the UK and United States or he moved with her each time. Could be a faculty member at the same colleges…" Hotch said.

Garcia piped up as she wrote down the idea, "I'll get started cross-referencing faculty between the universities."

Sophie spoke up, "I don't know anything about this profiling, but I do think that I would have noticed if the same person kept showing up in faculty positions at the Universities I was at."

Prentiss chimed in, "She's right, the faculty world, at least for PhD's is a small one. Maybe it is a student, a doctoral student who transferred around."

This time it was Spencer who added, "A doctoral student would not move from one university to another before getting his or her PhD. It makes it very difficult to complete your PhD, not impossible, but very difficult."

"Not to mention that Oxford would never accept a transferring doctoral student. They are rather snobbish in that way," Sophia added.

"But this guy might not be a serious graduate student. He's fixated on you, Sophia. He isn't going to care if he doesn't get his degree. He might not even be a doctoral student, but just a wealthy student who stays in school to keep from leaving the Ivory Tower and going into the real-world."

"Ah yes, the real world of murdered men, women, and children? I'll take my Ivory Tower and its cutthroat politics any day," Sophia responded to Morgan's comment.

Hotch cut the discussion off by asking Garcia to check into student visas during the appropriate times.

Spencer then started, "We have only linked a couple of bodies to the dates on the cards. If we take what he has written on the card and the person he killed, a meaning, at least in his mind, can be discerned. The obvious problem is he isn't taking the deck in any certain pattern, his kills are predetermined since the card arrives almost immediately after the kill, and he never sends the card ahead of time."

"Any DNA at the two crime scenes we know of?"

"No, nothing other than the vics. We do know he kills and leaves the victim to be discovered. He isn't dumping the bodies, the sites are easy to see, but he seems to be able to move around without fear of being caught."

An FBI agent knocked on the door and handed Hotch a file. Hotch opened it to the gruesome pictures of a woman and her 7 ½ month old fetus slaughtered at the back of a parking lot. This time the card was left at the scene.

Spencer took the evidence wrapped card, noticing the red color had not yet dried, and turned it over. The card was the reversal of the Empress. And he looked at the Latin words carved into her body, "_'Fateor tu Nefas.' Confess your Sins…"_

Sophie stood quickly and rushed out of the room. JJ followed her to the ladies' restroom where she found Sophie vomiting. Once she was done JJ handed her a cool wet towel while Sophie sat on the bathroom floor, tears streaming down her face. "How could I not have known, JJ? If I had suspected, maybe this person, this monster, could have been caught earlier."

"Sophie, you cannot hold yourself responsible for this. He is doing this, not you. And you have no way of knowing what the outcome could have been. Spencer and the team in there are the best there is. We will get this guy, but we are going to need your help. Do you think you can go back in there?"

Sophia stood bravely and washed her face. Even with swollen eyes and red lips from crying she was still beautiful, and her beauty was probably what had started this whole thing off. She would forever live with this guilt. "JJ, do you think you could get me some gum, or a toothbrush?"

JJ laughed and opened up the cabinet where all sorts of goodies were kept: combs, individual toothbrushes and sample toothpastes, mouthwash, hair spray, even some sample cosmetics. "Even at the FBI, we tend to be a little vain."

Sophia barked a laugh as she began to brush her teeth and prepared to meet the team back in the room.

By the time JJ and Sophie re-entered the room, the atmosphere had become very tense. The team was on speakerphone with the lab learning the results from the cards. The disembodied voice from the phone was speaking, "The paints from every card were hand mixed, much like they might have done before color tubes became available. Each color is from natural substances like bone, clay and plant oils. The gold is real gold-leaf, which at this depth of color would be very expensive and hard to find. But, the most interesting part is that all the red dyes are actually blood." The lab tech paused briefly before continuing. "We can get DNA off of them."

Hotch interrupted, "Do we know if the DNA is from the same donor?"

"No. At our first pass, the samples are from women and men and they all have different blood types. You guys are the pros, but I'm thinking he used the victim's own blood to mark each card."

"Get the DNA to Garcia ASAP. We have a place to start."

Sophie whispered, barely loud enough to be heard, "Sixteen cards over 8 years. Sixteen bodies over 8 years. I could have stopped this…" her voice died off into a covered sob.

Rossi raised his eyes to hers, looking directly into hers, "You never felt threatened by these cards. You had no reason to believe anything other than an artist was giving you a beautiful deck of Tarot cards. We see evil everywhere. We see warning signs in the mildest of actions. That is what we are trained for. You weren't and had no reason to be extraordinarily suspicious. You cannot blame yourself, Sophia."

"If it were you, wouldn't you blame yourself?"

Rossi sighed, "It isn't me, Sophie. We'll get this guy. With the DNA, we'll have the victims, we know you are the obsession, and he's been leaving clues at every scene. We've made good profiles based on much less." Rossi stopped talking and turned to Spencer, "We need to get her into a safe house. And someone needs to go to her house and see if there is anything else that we might find to help us."

Spencer nodded as Sophie cringed at the thought of someone going through her house. "Tomorrow I'll go and take Emily with me. We'll get set up in a safe house tonight…."

The door opened and a small whirling dervish entered the room screaming out joyfully, "Daddy!" as she leaped into Spencer's arms. "Why have you been gone so long? Who are all the people? Are they your friends? Can I meet them?" Diana spewed out questions like a machine gun shoots bullets…one after another without taking a breath. Sophia laughed slightly at her daughter's tactless yet enthusiastic entrance. She had to be getting bored and hungry, but her spirits were still exuberant.

Spencer held her small body carefully and turned her towards the curious and shocked faces at the table. "Guys, uh…meet my daughter, Diana Reid."

And the pencil Morgan held in his hand snapped in two.


End file.
